Emotional Pornography
November 26, 2003
Today, Jason sold me an erotic book in the concourse, and while we were making small talk he told me that he read my blog and found it depressing as fuck. And he’s quite right.
What I write is often anguished and visceral because I strive to present a relatively honest view of my life: both the despair and the hope. There are too many mind-numbingly boring blogs on the web and I don’t intend to waste anyone’s time with insincere trivialities. But as Jason noted, brutal honesty gets pretty fucking depressing.
People simply don’t respond to emotional pornography: nobody unbuttons their pants to stroke hard flesh while reading my entries; hot cum is not spilled on the keyboard over the details of my days and ways; and fingers don’t circle quivering orifices in search of exquisite joys because of my rants.
It is not the emotional pornography, but the optimistic, uncomplicated entries that often elicit a responses from the readers in the form of comments. And comments are what bloggers live for. The entire Blogosphere is like a giant Skinner box where the pallets of food used to reinforce behaviour are the comments delivered by readers. And because readers often reward the innocuous entries, it is not surprising that blogging as a phenomenon is becoming increasingly insincere and mundane. Only angsty teenagers still write about their anger in their web journals.
As far as blogs are concerned, the audience actively changes the author’s writing by the subtle delivery of rewards. I feel that my own writing is changing as I become more aware of my audience and the reward system, and I don’t like it.
Now that quite a few people are reading my blog I’m starting to second-guess myself about the things I write down. How much detail do I dare provide? Will the transparency I offer come back to haunt me? Is it even sane to invite strangers into my mind?
From the beginning I’ve been trying to do something different and beautiful with my blog, I’ve been trying to expose a bit of my soul. Too bad it is fucking depressing.
Posted by Tudor at 11:23 PM in Writing & the Media | TrackBackI often wonder how much detail I should reveal in my blog. There is so much I can write, the consequences of misinterpretation; however, are quickly becoming a fear, especially after that hideous article I wrote for the Cord last week.
I am certain that depressive quality of your blog is relative to the person viewing it. People can find anything to be jealous about.
Posted by: Fraser on November 26, 2003 at 11:39 PMDivulge all, but only if you feel you have too. I for one am always worried I might miss some wonderful opportunity to say something meaningful.
As for misrepresentation, fighting to clarify what you say is often as fun as saying it ;).
Posted by: Tudor on November 26, 2003 at 11:55 PMThere is no difference between my blogging and any other type of small-talk/story-telling that I engage in.
Don’t worry too much about your audience because at the end of the day, they all go back to their own lives.
“comments are what bloggers live for”
Apparently not me. For my last six blogs, I have not gotten a single comment. Out of a total of 10 blogs, I have a grand total of four comments.
It doesn’t bother me at all, mainly because so much of my work isn’t even published in the first place. I finally have a place of my own, and I am enjoying it.
Posted by: Brian on November 30, 2003 at 04:13 AM^Actually, I have a total of THREE comments. One of the four was myself responding…
Posted by: Brian on November 30, 2003 at 04:13 AMWe still love you Brian ;).
And while you may be willing to believe that your audience does not matter, I’m still willing to argue that their feedback (or lack thereof) shapes the information you present on your blog.
This does not mean that you do not write things that are meaningful to you. However, the influence of others does shape our writing. This would make a pretty cool experiment, now that I think of it ;)
Posted by: Tudor on December 01, 2003 at 12:42 PM